Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

Faculty Hall. Torches and paintings of staff members lined the stone walls. Ronin stood before an unmarked door. Right next to the door was a painting of Mr. Wetstone. The likeness was uncanny. But, even without the painting, Ronin would have known it was Mr. Weststone’s office. He could smell the aftershave that only Mr. Wetstone wore, seeping from under the door.

Ronin knocked three time.

“It’s open!” shouted Mr. Wetstone.

The office was small. A desk, a book shelf and two leather tufted chairs were the only furniture in the quaint room. On the left wall was a tiny cobblestone fireplace. The glowing embers subtlety warmed the air. The atmosphere was inviting.

Mr. Wetstone sat at his desk reading some paperwork. Lifting his eyes from his work, a look of pleasant surprise came over his face. “What a coincidence. I was planning on coming to see you today.” Mr. Wetstone pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please. Sit.”

Taking a seat, Ronin could barely hold in his enthusiasm. “Sir.” Ronin leaned forward and scooted to the edge of the tufted chair. “I don’t kno…”

Mr. Wetstone interrupted. “Please,” he said. “I insist that you let me speak first.” The tone in his voice was firm.

The sternness took Ronin by surprise. The thought of more bad news sent his heart rate into a frenzy.

“I wanted to apologize to you for the way I have been behaving since you arrived here,” said Mr. Wetstone. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “When I found out that the Wilder’s boy was to be attending BrightWood I became so excited. It was a chance to reconnect with my past. A past that meant so much to me. It was almost like having them back. You’re parents that is.” He shook his head. “But when you unintentionally proved the very thing I had refused to believe all these years, I felt betrayed. Seeing you was a constant reminder of how blind I was. I despised myself for being fooled, for letting my guard down.”

A painting leaning against the wall behind Mr. Wetstone’s chair caught Ronin’s eye. It was the painting of his mother and father they had removed from the Ware House wall.

“I have been such a fool,” said Mr. Wetstone. “I knew your parents better than anyone. They were good caring people. Whatever they did they must have had a good reason for doing it. I let my ego blind me. I made it about myself. I should have remembered them. I dishonored them and you.” He exhaled and stared at his leather top desk. “I am sorry.”

As happy as Ronin was to hear of Mr. Wetstone’s change of heart, he had more important matters to address. “Sir. Thank you. I’m really happy to hear that, but I have some really bad news.”

Mr. Wetstone sat up and folded his arms. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

Two minutes of hurried explanation left Ronin feeling exhausted and relieved. Mr. Wetstone did not look thrilled.

“These are serious accusations,” said Mr. Westone. He squinted. “And you said Ryan told you all of this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well. It’s well know that Ryan Grey hates his father.” He stood up and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “You have to excuse me if I am a little skeptical that our founders second in command is plotting the destruction of everything they have built. As you said. It’s not just the Vein he is trying to eliminate but the Humayre as well.”

“No sir. I don’t think Mr. Grey is trying to kill the Humayre on purpose. Ryan said it’s a byproduct of the weapon.”

He turned from the fireplace and faced Ronin. A dead serious look came over his face. “You do realize that by telling me this you have put your reputation and standing with BrightWood on the line?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay then. I will launch an investigation immediately.” Staring at the floor and rubbing his hands together, he added, “Dr. Storm will not be pleased.” He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “If this all turns out to be true…” He paused. “I don’t even want to imagine what this means, if it’s all true.”

A knock broke the tension in the room.

“Come in,” said Mr. Wetstone.

In burst an out of breath man wearing BioArmor. “CreeWood was just attacked,” he blurted out.

“What?” asked Mr. Wetstone. “By who?”

“Four Vein,” said the man. He caught his breath. “Lee and Barrit from Den Ash. Evin and Dezris from Den Sallus.”

Mr. Wetstone rushed to his desk and almost fell over his chair. He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a rolled up piece of parchment out of it. He spread the parchment over the table. It was a map of the U.S. He made two red circles with a pen. “They are uniting,” he said. He pointed to the red circles. “Look how far apart they are. It wasn’t a combined effort based off locale. They are working together and they want us to know it.” He pulled his focus from the map and looked to the man. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Three were killed. Tom Black, Rick Samson and Dan West.”

“All Keiri,” said Mr. Wetstone. He rested his head in his hands. “Three of CreeWoods best.” Looking to the man he shook his head. “Were any students hurt?”

“No.”

“Thank goodness,” he exhaled. “Have you spoken with their head master yet?”

“No yet,” said the man. “There’s something else.”

“Go on.”

“The Vein claimed openly after they killed the Keiri that Raven was cleaning house,” said the man. “They announced it out to everyone watching.”

“What?” asked Mr. Westone. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you inform the council yet?”

“No. I came here first.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Wetstone. He stared at the map. “I need you to contact House Wright. Tell them we need two Keiri stationed at CreeWood to replace the three that were killed. Also tell them to put four of their best Keiri on standby.” He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. “I will inform the council and get the kill order finalized.”

“Okay,” said the man. He turned and ran out of the room.

Ronin sucked in a gulp of air, he had forgotten to breathe. As he sat in silence he wished he was somewhere else, anywhere else.